


Pretty in Green

by curiumKingyo



Series: Connor's Guide to the Love and Care of Hank Anderson [1]
Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Bottom!Hank, Lingerie, M/M, Porn with Feelings, Short & Sweet, Strap-Ons, Top!Connor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-10
Updated: 2018-08-10
Packaged: 2019-06-25 08:40:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,024
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15637170
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/curiumKingyo/pseuds/curiumKingyo
Summary: Connor can run accurate visual simulations easily with his advanced software, but not even him could imagine how hot Hank would look in lingerie.





	Pretty in Green

**Author's Note:**

> The abysmal lack of bottom!Hank content has been brought to my attention and I took it in my hands to fix it!

“Hank, what's your favorite color?”

Connor's question comes so suddenly that Hank actually has to stop what he’s doing to consider it. This is not the kind of thing he’s used to thinking about. He frowns for a second before replying.

“Green. Like, light green,” he says at last. After a pause, he adds “why?”

Connor's LED blinks yellow for the briefest second.

“Nothing,” he answers with an all too forced neutral expression on his face. Hank raises his eyebrow, not buying the dismissive reaction at all. He doesn't press the matter, though. If Connor wants to keep a little secret then Hank is more than willing to allow him that.

A few days go by and Hank completely forgets the subject. They work during the day, walk Sumo in the evening, watch movies and fall asleep together at night. Their routine is intense, police work requiring much energy and time, but it is also comforting. They kiss and hug and make out like teenagers regardless of Hank's token protests about being old and out of shape.

“You aren’t old,” Connor insists, all smiles and roaming hands.

“No comments about me being out of shape?” Hank teases him and smothers Connor's pout with kisses.

“I like your body,” Connor says when Hank finally breaks apart. “You are handsome and strong.”

Hank rolls his eyes and leans in for another kiss but Connor places a gentle hand on his chest to keep him away. The human frowns a little, confused.

“Hank, there is something I want to do with you,” Connor says, solemnly. “I’ve bought some items online and I really want to try them now. Can we go to the bed?”

Hank's curiosity is more than picked. He nods, throat suddenly dry, and Connor tows him into the bedroom. The android gently pushes his human onto the bed and goes to the wardrobe to fetch a big paper bag from behind some coats. Hank watches him attentively.

“I hope I have bought the right size,” Connor says as he takes two boxes from the bag. He reads the labels and offers Hank one of them, keeping the other for himself.

Hank picks the box cautiously. It is a little bigger than a book, made out of black cardboard and quite light. Whatever is inside it isn’t heavy at all. He opens it under Connor's watchful gaze.

There is pearl colored wax paper inside the box and, nestled in the middle of it, Hank finds pale green lace and satin. At first, he is confused, but when he picks it he suddenly understands what is in front of him.

Connor’s gaze is following his every move. The android is biting his lower lip, eyes big with apprehension, cheeks colored a soft blue. His artificial breath comes in shivery puffs and Hank is caught under the intensity of his expression - it makes the police officer feel hot under his collar.

“Connor?” Hank’s voice is uncertain. “What does it mean?”

He is trying his best not to sound accusative. Deep down he knows this is not a joke, nor a provocation, these kind of things are not in Connor’s nature. He doesn’t doubt the intention behind the gesture, he doubts the common sense. His fingers are idly tracing the design in the lace as he searches Connor’s face for… something.

“There was a fashion magazine lying around in the break room at the station,” Connor says, eyes still trained on Hank’s hands, on the way he is touching the lace and satin. “I took a look at it and when I saw these I couldn’t stop imagining you wearing them.”

“Why?”

Connor looks up at Hank’s face. His LED spins yellow but his expression is so deeply confused that the color cue is not necessary to understand his mental state. Hank’s question has really caught Connor off guard.

“Because they are beautiful,” Connor replies, carefully. “And so are you.”

Hank sighs deeply.

“Connor, I…” he closes the box and Connor actually whines in protest. Hank’s heart squeezes in his chest.

“I’m sorry,” Connor says before Hank finishes his phrase. “I should have talked to you first, this was insensitive of me. I’ll fill a return order right now.”

Connor reaches for the box but Hank takes a step back before he could touch the cardboard. Both of them stand still, time slowing to a trickle. Hank’s heart clenches painfully as he surveys Connor’s expression; Connor’s processors run overtime trying to figure out how to fix the situation.

“What do you have in your box?” Hank asks, bidding for time.

Connor looks down at the box still in his hands. It is made out of the same black cardboard as Hank’s but the shape is more rectangular. Connor’s fingers drum on the lid as his LED blinks, calculating possible outcomes. Slowly he opens the box and reveals the contents to Hank.

Hank sucks in a harsh breath, heat exploding on his cheeks and down his neck. A pop-up flashes on the corner of Connor’s vision, an alert about Hank’s sudden high blood pressure and heartbeat. The android ignores it.

“It is just a temporary solution,” Connor says, almost timidly. “But I thought it would be appropriate to do something for you since I was going to ask you to do something for me.”

Hank looks at the box in Connor’s hands, then back at the one with him. He looks back at the other box, the blush on his face deepening, creeping up to his ears and down his neck. He feels pressure building between his legs.

Finally, his eyebrows set in a somewhat confident expression.

“I’m not promising anything,” he says, directing a meaningful glance to the box.

Connor’s smile is bright as the sun as he watches Hank marching over to the bathroom. Excitement washes over him as he tries to control his imagination - and his visual simulation software. He feels like this experience will be much more rewarding if it is a surprise. When he hears the click of the bathroom door closing he immediately starts to work on his part of the bargain.

Hank stands in the middle of the bathroom staring intently at a black box. The lights in the bathroom are old, incandescent light bulbs, and they paint everything soft and warm, even his hesitant reflex on the mirror. Hank does his best not to look at his own face, focusing on opening the box and taking everything out of it.

When he finishes there are four items neatly lined on the white cabinet. A pair of silk stockings, a delicate lace top, and matching panties. All pieces are of a beautiful, soft mint green - the exact shade Hank imagined when asked about his favorite color. His breathing is irregular, his throat dry. He still doesn’t know what exactly was going through Connor’s high tech processor when he bought the lingerie but he decides it might be worth a try.

He takes off his clothes slowly, hands not quite sure as they make the familiar work of removing his shirt, jeans, and underwear. Under the soft yellow lights, it is easy to dismiss the stretch marks around his thighs and gut, it is easy to ignore the fact that the hair on his chest and legs is grey, it is simple to overlook the scars and blemishes and extra fat on his hips and belly. The light in the bedroom is not so forgiving, his mind supplies, unhelpful as always. He is shaking in a mix of nerves and lack of confidence.

When he closes his eyes he can picture Connor waiting for him in the bedroom, perfect and beautiful to the last hair on his head. The comparison is so unfair. Hank knows that even in his prime he would never be a match to Connor’s designed perfection. He is falling into a pit of self-hatred when Connor’s words echo back in his memory.

_I thought it would be appropriate to do something for you since I was going to ask you to do something for me._

That’s what Connor said, and a new notion settles in Hank’s heart. He is doing this for Connor. Connor, who despite being the epitome of human creation, has decided that Hank was worth his time and love. Who isn’t cheap with his attention or affection. Who deserves so much but asks for so little. Suddenly he is reminded of just how much he loves Connor.

Hank’s shoulders set into a straight, solid line, his posture and face full of confidence. He is doing this for Connor, and if this is for Connor, this might as well be perfect.

He brushes his hair until it is soft and smooth, then he quickly trims his beard, making sure to be extra careful around his lips. The difference is not too big but he is sure Connor will notice it. Taking a deep breath he starts to get dressed.

Surprisingly, his mostly limp cock fits comfortably in the lacy underwear. The sides of the panties are wide, they hug his hips beautifully. The swell of his gut is too big to fit into the panties creating a little muffin top effect but he doesn’t allow it to ruin his determination.

He struggles a little with the top. It is a single piece with no clasps so he has to slide the entire thing on over his head like a very tight shirt. When it finally gets into place the lace is stretched tightly over his chest, the straps pressing down on the soft flesh of his shoulders. He realizes the lace is decorated with butterfly designs.

Last come the stockings. The silk slides cool and smooth over his legs, the elastic bands on the top squeeze his thighs creating a subtle indentation. He runs his fingers over the little bump and finds it oddly pleasing to do so. He brushes some imaginary dirt from the shiny fabric before looking back at the mirror.

Despite being clad in female clothing, there is nothing feminine about him in that moment. His shoulders are still large, his chest broad and burly. The stockings shape his legs nicely but his hips are wide and bulky with no curves despite the little extra fat there. Nothing in his dry skin, his scars and body hair resemble a woman. He doesn’t need the mirror to know this, and certainly, neither does Connor. However, that is what Connor wants: flawed and masculine Hank in pretty lingerie.

And that’s what Hank is going to give him.

With a last look at the mirror and a last shaky inhale Hank leaves the bathroom. His steps are very silent, bare feet covered in silk making barely any noise in the linoleum floor. With the corner of his eye, he sees Sumo milling around the backyard. Connor had made them the favor of getting rid of the dog. The realization makes Hank smile.

The door to the bedroom closed. Hank stands in the corridor with his heart beating fast and hard in his chest. He can almost see the lace expanding around his chest as he breathes harshly. There is a pregnant pause in which he sees Connor’s shadow approaching under the door.

“Connor?” He calls softly, palm pressing against the door between them. He thinks he feels Connor’s hand touching his through the door.

“Yes?”

“I am nervous,” he admits with an inelegant snort. He doesn’t see it, but Connor smiles in return.

“So am I. But, I am also very excited,” his voice has a breathy quality to it that is purely aesthetic. Hank appreciates it nonetheless.

“Me too,” Hank’s hand slide down the door until he grabs the doorknob. “May I open the door?”

A sharp, loud exhale from Connor’s side.

“Please.”

Hank twists the knob and lets the door open by itself. Slowly he takes the scene in - the bed has been made and many of the pillows from the living room are resting on it, there are no more clothes strewn around, the lights have been replaced by the same warm ones from the bathroom.

At last his eyes fall on Connor. The android’s hands are twisting nervously against the black strap wrapped around his thighs, the LED shining in chaotic yellow circles on his temple. His eyes follow the elegant lines of Connor’s body until they fall on the light pink dildo between his legs. Hank’s breath is punched out of him by the sight, a small moan leaving his lips as his pupils dilate significantly.

Connor’s LED immediately turns blue and a smile spreads across the android’s face.

“This is much better than any projection my software could create,” Connor says, softly and awed, hand slowly reaching up to touch Hank’s lace covered hip. Hank blushes fiercely.

Connor’s hand is warm where it spreads over Hank’s skin. They come closer, eyes never leaving the other until they get so close they both go a little cross-eyed. Hank laughs a little and Connor stands up on his tiptoes to kiss him.

Their kissing is slow and soft, Connor’s hands touch every part of Hank’s body that is covered in lace. He cups Hank’s chest and rubs his nipples through the soft fabric, the motion makes Hank moan brokenly into the kiss.

Encouraged by the response, Connor lets one hand rest there to tease and squeeze Hank’s chest while the other hand drifts down to cup his growing erection. The texture of lace and skin is delightful against the sensitive sensors of his fingertips. He runs his fingers, feather-light, down Hank’s gut to feel the hair there, and then over the stretched fabric covering his cock. The differences in temperature and texture make him moan into Hank’s mouth.

Hank’s own hands are firmly planted on Connor’s hips, his thumbs insistently rubbing the black straps holding the strap-on in place. They had talked about Connor getting a sexual hardware sometime in the future and, now that he had seen his lover with more than a smooth blank between his legs, Hank knows they will have to have this conversation again.

Not now, of course. Now the only thing he wants is to lay down on the bed and welcome Connor between his legs.

“Come to the bed with me,” Hank half asks, half demands and Connor complies quickly.

They land on the bed with more grace than Hank was expecting to. Connor is over him immediately, lips and tongue on his neck and shoulders.

“You trimmed your beard,” Connor comments between kisses. “And combed your hair.”

“I wanted to look pretty for you,” Hank says and even he isn’t sure if this is supposed to be a joke or not.

“You look perfect,” Connor stops kissing him in order to look directly into his eyes. There is nothing but sincerity and adoration in his face and voice and Hank’s heart leaps to his throat, his chest too full of warm feelings.

Hank leans forward and kisses him again. Connor kisses him back without hesitation, running his tongue between Hank’s lips, touching the wet skin inside and analyzing it impulsively. There is an unexplainable joy in learning exactly what is in Hank’s body, in his saliva and sweat and blood or tears. In the salt of his skin and the sweetness of his lips.

Connor gently pushes Hank down onto the bed and the older man allows the manhandling. He lays down and promptly opens his legs, hooking his heel behind Connor and pulling him in. Connor comes closer easily, seeking the contact as much as Hank. The pink dildo slides over Hank’s trapped erection and he moans in response. Connor smirks.

“Can I prep you?”

“Fuck,” Hank feels like he was punched in the gut. He hadn’t expected to hear this phrase once more in his life, but here are they. “Yes, yes you can.”

Connor holds Hank’s stocking clad leg in one hand and starts to suck on the fingers of the other. Hank is used to it by now, and what once grossed him out now is a big turn on. He has learned that Connor’s mouth produces a variety of fluids: reacting agents for his analysis, disinfectant to control the possible bacteria growing there, lubricant to keep the elasticity of the synthetic muscles there. Hank is not entirely sure it is a coincidence that the lubricant also happens to be perfect to facilitate sex with humans.

Hank keeps grinding up against Connor as the android sucks and slobbers all over his fingers. Connor’s face is twisted in pleasure, his sensors surely picking and analyzing everything around them. The textures of fabric, skin, lace, hair. The temperature and humidity of Hank’s breath and the space between their bodies. The sounds of Hank’s shallow breathing, his throat working to swallow the excess of saliva pooling in his mouth. Even Hank’s heartbeat is being cataloged and used to fuel Connor’s own pleasure.

When Connor finally deems his fingers wet enough he takes them off his mouth with a lewd sound that goes directly to Hank’s cock. The older man whimpers as he feels Connor’s dry hand gently pushing the panties aside, only enough to expose his hole.

“Ready?” Connor asks, voice slightly glitchy. Hank’s head spins at the sound of it and he nods frantically in reply.

Connor rubs his fingers, wet and warm, around Hank’s hole. Hank tenses for the briefest moment but he relaxes almost immediately. Connor’s dry hand rubs gentle circles on Hank’s leg and Hank’s hips start to tilt upward, seeking friction from both Connor’s fingers and the dildo nested between them.

Slow but steadily, Connor presses his finger in. Hank shivers around the digit, his legs trembling and hands gripping the sheets tightly. Connor continues his ministrations, pressing into the welcoming heat and easing off at a regular pace. He keeps this rhythm until Hank seems completely relaxed around his finger.

Hank’s eyes are closed his mouth slack. He is so gorgeous Connor can barely focus enough processing power to other tasks. He just wants to look at him, to analyze all the details, to absorb all the information. Sometimes it hurts Connor how much he loves Hank.

But he soldiers on and adds two fingers at once, ripping a strangled moan out of his lover. Hank’s legs squeeze him and his hips grind up, rolling against the dildo. Hank pants, his cock is getting more and more sensitive, a wet spot growing over the head and soaking the delicate fabric of his panties.

“Crook your finger,” Hank instructs, breathless and sweating. Connor nods and does as he is told.

Connor has made his research, he knows what Hank wants and he doesn’t fail to deliver it. He finds the Lieutenant’s prostate and starts to gently press against it. Hank howls, blue eyes fluttering closed, back arching sharply. The reactions feed all sorts of reward systems in Connor’s programming, a moan filled with static leaves his mouth.

Hank’s breathing is harsh and uneven, his face and chest are tinted pink and there is sweat glistening over his skin. His lips are kiss swollen and his hair is a messy silver halo around his head. The top constricts his chest but he doesn’t even consider removing it. Connor’s free hand splay over his belly and he digs his nails in, soft flesh under hard acrylic. When he lets go there are moon-shaped indentations on Hank’s skin.

Connor grinds his fingers against Hank’s prostate once more before removing his fingers completely. Hank is a panting, shivery mess. All the kissing and fooling around with Connor on the last couple weeks hadn’t prepared him for the real deal. His body feels raw and alive like it hadn’t been in ages and he realizes he can easily get addicted to the feeling.

Connor licks his palm and uses the saliva to coat the dildo. Hank watches him with hungry eyes and Connor’s LED is spinning so fast it makes Hank dizzy. Blue and yellow shift and change so fast they blur into a sharp green color.

They both suspend their breathing when Connor finally enters him. Hank’s eyes roll back into his head and he moans, long and loud, as he feels inch after inch entering him. Connor is careful and precise, the dildo slides in perfectly, and he just stops when his smooth pelvis is pressed tightly against Hank’s hairy ass.

“Oh fuck this is perfect,” Hank groans, mostly to himself. Connor hears it, though, and is filled with pride and joy.

Connor starts moving as soon as he notices that Hank’s heartbeat is regular again. With one hand holding Hank’s hips up and the other free to roam the older man’s body, Connor starts to properly fuck Hank.

Hank’s cock is straining against the green lace, precome soaking through the fabric at an alarming rate. The front of the paniss are dark, almost grey, instead of the original soft mint color. Connor wonders how other fabrics and other colors would react in a similar situation. He can barely wait to try.

The skin on Connor’s hands vanish and he touches Hanks directly with his naked plastic fingers. The touch is a little colder than the synthetic skin but Hank is too far gone to complain. Connor touches Hank’s sides, running his sensors everywhere he can, skin or lace or satin, he wants it all. Hank opens his arms and legs, arches his back and puffs his chest out. He does everything he can to offer more and more for Connor’s touching and seeing pleasure.

Connor’s hand finally fall over Hank’s cock and the human shakes under the touch. The dildo is rubbing delightfully over his prostate and the sensitive skin of his rim, but his cock had been mostly ignored so far. Hank grunts brokenly as Connor presses the heel of his hand over his trapped cock.

Hank is about to come. He feels it in the tightening of his stomach and in the way the hairs on his legs and arms are standing on end. Connor feels it, too, in his heart beat skyrocketing and the flood of hormones soaking his sweaty skin. Connor’s own threshold is close, the parameters of his task coming to a satisfying end.

Satisfy Hank.

His primary directive in the moment flashes before his eyes as Hank desperately grabs his hand and presses it harder against his cock. Hank’s body goes taut, a strangled moan echoes on the still air of the room, Connor feels his cock pulsing under his hand. Wet heat blows behind the thin lace and seep through, coating Connor’s sensors in Hank’s release.

Connor goes rigid, LED blinking red a few times as a rush of electricity runs down his body. Every sensor lights up with input, every component of his processing center overloads. And then, as fast as it starts, it all ends and he shakes pitifully as his LED blinks yellow a few times before turning blue again.

They stay there in a messy tangle of limbs for a few moments. With a tired, sated sigh, Hank brings their joined hands up and kisses Connor’s plastic fingertips. They share a satisfied smile as Connor carefully pulls off of Hank, dildo glistening with lube. Hank distantly wishes Connor could actually produce some sort of spend, it is strange to feel so loose and well used but so dry at the same time.

Connor shifts around until they are laying side by side. The skin crawls back over Connor’s hand as he tenderly caresses Hank’s face. Hank closes his eyes, sated and happy, and presses his cheek against Connor’s palm.

“When you left to the bathroom, you took so long I was afraid you had given up,” Connor confesses in a soft voice.

“I almost did,” Hank opens his eyes and stares at Connor’s peaceful expression, his light blue LED spinning lazily.

“I’m glad you didn’t.”

Hank is feeling boneless and warm, the lace surprisingly comfortable on his skin. He leans up to press a kiss between Connor’s eyebrows.

“Me too.”

**Author's Note:**

> This is kind of a birthday gift to my sweet friend @slowonder who just so happens to be partially responsible for dragging me to D:BH hell... Enjoy, babe!
> 
> Come hang with me on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/curiumkingyo) or [Tumblr](http://burn-gormans-eyelashes.tumblr.com) and if you are feeling generous, take a look at my [Ko-Fi](https://ko-fi.com/O5O8K6GJ#) too <3


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